Monday, February 25, 2013
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Winner! Winner! Winner!
I know I promised to announce this days ago, but we have a winner for the Loova basket!
It is Dee6000 with the comment:
Well...since I am trying to lose a few pounds, this would be perfect for me since I believe it is not edible chocolate! Also, this is the closest I will have come to any semblance of a spa day, manicure, pedicure, facial, etc. having put two boys through 33 hockey teams over the past 14 years has left little time or money for those guilty little pleasures! Send it to me please!
All of your entries were fantastic, but Dee6000 really tugged at my heartstrings. Dee, send me an email here with your address and I will make sure you get your basket ASAP!
Just finished some waffles and I'm having some coffee before heading out on the mountain. Mister Fergs is in Vegas and I'm taking my Aunt, Uncle and daughter skiing today. This will be my first time being solely responsible for Biddy on the slopes and my Uncle has not been skiing in 23 years. Pray for us.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Catch of the Day
I always say that the worst time to live in Western Pennsylvania is the long stretch between Valentine’s Day and the end of March. I think that’s why I took up skiing—to distract myself from the bitter cold temperatures and perpetually gray skies. That and the fact my husband would probably leave me if I didn’t ski. He really loves it.
I have officially had it with the snow. Today I had another vehicular brush with death due to icy roads, which prompted me to get on the horn and order some new tires. Nothing like a good scare to loosen your purse strings! Now the quilted Burberry coat I had my eye on will have to wait, but at least I will be alive to wear it when I get around to making the purchase.
I have been ridiculously thirsty lately, which has convinced the hypochondriac in me that I am developing Type II Diabetes. Instead of quenching this thirst with something sensible like water, I decided to drive through McDonald’s for a Diet Coke today. When I pulled up to make my order, I noticed an advertising campaign for their new Cod Filet Sandwich. When I saw the sign, I started laughing so hard I could barely ask for my drink. Why? A few years ago, someone told me that the “Cod” was not an actual breed of fish. They explained that “Cod” stood for “catch of the day,” so when I saw that on a menu, it really meant whatever random fish was on special. This explanation seemed legit to me and I believed it for many, many years until Mister Ferguson ordered it at a restaurant and I informed him that he should really clarify the actual breed of fish with the server before ordering. To this day, I don’t remember who told me that and also if they were joking or believed it themselves.
You may be wondering when the winner of the Loova basket will be announced and the answer is tomorrow! If you want to enter, you have one more day!
I’m sorry for the lack of blog posts this past week. I have no excuse other than I haven’t really been inspired to write anything and also have been busy developing Diabetes (not really). Anyway, I missed you all terribly and promise to do better this week.
I have officially had it with the snow. Today I had another vehicular brush with death due to icy roads, which prompted me to get on the horn and order some new tires. Nothing like a good scare to loosen your purse strings! Now the quilted Burberry coat I had my eye on will have to wait, but at least I will be alive to wear it when I get around to making the purchase.
I have been ridiculously thirsty lately, which has convinced the hypochondriac in me that I am developing Type II Diabetes. Instead of quenching this thirst with something sensible like water, I decided to drive through McDonald’s for a Diet Coke today. When I pulled up to make my order, I noticed an advertising campaign for their new Cod Filet Sandwich. When I saw the sign, I started laughing so hard I could barely ask for my drink. Why? A few years ago, someone told me that the “Cod” was not an actual breed of fish. They explained that “Cod” stood for “catch of the day,” so when I saw that on a menu, it really meant whatever random fish was on special. This explanation seemed legit to me and I believed it for many, many years until Mister Ferguson ordered it at a restaurant and I informed him that he should really clarify the actual breed of fish with the server before ordering. To this day, I don’t remember who told me that and also if they were joking or believed it themselves.
You may be wondering when the winner of the Loova basket will be announced and the answer is tomorrow! If you want to enter, you have one more day!
I’m sorry for the lack of blog posts this past week. I have no excuse other than I haven’t really been inspired to write anything and also have been busy developing Diabetes (not really). Anyway, I missed you all terribly and promise to do better this week.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Friday, February 8, 2013
I Loova You
Let's try this giveaway thing again. Maybe last time the concept was new and you were a little hesitant to comment. I get it. Hopefully after I tough talked all of you after the Freaker contest, you have come to your senses and realized that by typing one little comment at the end of this post, you could potentially win an amazing prize. No shipping cost to you, no strings attached. In a world where you can't even buy a pack of gum without giving the cashier your whole life story, this is a pretty good deal.
I have a crafting/running/drinking buddy named Val who owns a great bath and body store named Loova. She also has a case of the babies and I can't wait to find out what she's having so I can start making her baby blankets! Anywho, Val has graciously donated this Chocolate Lovers Basket for this giveaway!
The basket contains chocolate scrub, soap, lip balm and a bath blaster. I have been a faithful customer of Loova for years. I love to go to her store and pick up my favorite sugar scrub at a five finger discount (I don't actually STEAL per se, she knows about it).
I'm going to make this giveaway a little more interesting. In order to win, you most comment on this post and tell me why you want to win this basket. I will pick the most creative response. No random numbers, no luck this time. If you don't win this basket, but want to buy one of your very own, you can visit Val online here.
Good luck! xoxo
I have a crafting/running/drinking buddy named Val who owns a great bath and body store named Loova. She also has a case of the babies and I can't wait to find out what she's having so I can start making her baby blankets! Anywho, Val has graciously donated this Chocolate Lovers Basket for this giveaway!
The basket contains chocolate scrub, soap, lip balm and a bath blaster. I have been a faithful customer of Loova for years. I love to go to her store and pick up my favorite sugar scrub at a five finger discount (I don't actually STEAL per se, she knows about it).
I'm going to make this giveaway a little more interesting. In order to win, you most comment on this post and tell me why you want to win this basket. I will pick the most creative response. No random numbers, no luck this time. If you don't win this basket, but want to buy one of your very own, you can visit Val online here.
Good luck! xoxo
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Mi Blogga Es Su Blogga
A few posts ago, I mentioned to all of you that if you ever wanted to write a little something for Tiddy.com I would love to publish it. It can be anything--a story about something that happened to you, a revelation that you recently had, a Pinterest experiment or even a little bitch session about the current state of your affairs.
One reader who I had the pleasure of meeting and hanging out with during the Super Bowl of '09 took me up on my offer and emailed me this fun story titled, "Bring Your Goat to Work Day." In order to differentiate her words from mine, I have made them a lovely shade of purple.
Thank you for your guest blog Alison!
My sister was sad the other day. I like to tell her funny stories when she’s down. I was saving this one for a crappy day. I had a crappy day yesterday, so telling it made me feel better… it was totally worth saving. It cheered her up and she said I had to give it to Tiddy for a guest blog.
Through a series of events, my husband and I connected with an acquaintance from middle school and his wife. Through a series of additional events, we’ve become friends with some of their friends and often go down for events. They live in Jupiter, FL.
Jupiter is about a two hour drive for us. It’s like visiting fancy town. Their Publix (Giant Eagle equivalent) has valet. Literally. Our friends all have nice cars and good jobs and talk about things like gun control and politics over beers. It’s like another world to us.
Last weekend we had plans to go down for their Annual Brew Fest event and stay with one of our guy friends. The liquor store in CCB wasn’t open when we left home, so we planned to stop near our friends house to pick him up a bottle to thank him for hosting us. We stopped at his friendly neighborhood liquor store…the first one we saw pulling off the highway. It was what we would call a bodega store…privately owned, usually run by an ethnic person, in a strip mall, etc.
As we approached the door, I realized the owner was standing out front with his dog and getting some sun. It was a lovely January day in Florida. Sunny. About 75 degrees. A beautiful day to be outside and enjoy the sun. As we entered the store, the owner held the door for us and let his dog in the store. He was clucking and talking to the dog so sweetly. It was kind of adorable. Only it wasn’t a dog. It was a goat.
We were in one of the nicer parts of Florida, in a more affluent neighborhood, and the dude had a goat in his store. I guess I didn’t realize it was “Take your goat to work day.” When I mentioned that, my husband said yeah – he’s never heard that before!
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Craft Porn Volume 3
I’ve always thought that the secret to successful dieting is to find a way to trick yourself into thinking you are being bad, when you are actually eating food that is low calorie and semi-good for you. I say semi-good because I will never be that person who shops in the organic section of the produce aisle and/or pays attention to sodium content. If you are that person, I think you are both amazing and a kook.
Things I enjoy eating almost always include buffalo sauce and ranch dressing, so when I saw this on Pinterest, I clicked on it immediately. It involves rolling chicken soaked in buffalo sauce into eggroll wrappers. I took it a step further and made my own ranch dressing out of Greek yogurt and ranch seasoning.
So here’s the link to the original recipe. It is way too long for me to post here, but has lovely photos and is really easy to follow.
This is what I did:
1. I threw a package of chicken in the Crock Pot and poured an entire bottle of buffalo sauce over it (I used Frank's, it was good). It cooked all day.
2. I shredded the chicken with a fork and it looked like this:
3. I put the chicken in the center of the eggroll wrappers and rolled them up like (you guessed it) an eggroll. I forgot to take pics of this step, but there are great ones on the original recipe. It also calls for blue cheese crumbles and broccoli slaw, but I didn’t have that and did not feel comfortable substituting Kraft singles and Iceberg lettuce. If you're like me and had no idea you could buy eggroll wrappers, you can find them in the produce aisle.
4. I put them on a cookie sheet and baked them at 400 degrees for about 15 minutes.
While they were cooking, I busied myself making a faux ranch dressing. I took one cup of plain Greek yogurt, one half cup of skim milk and a packet of dry ranch seasoning and whisked it together. That’s all. It surprised the shit out of me to learn that I had a whisk of my very own, but that’s a story for another day.
This is what it was supposed to look like and what mine looked like. I’m pretty proud of myself.
When I went to get the recipe off of Pinterest today, I noticed several of you had repinned it, so this might be old news to you. I repinned it from my cousin Lindsay's board titled "Buffalo Chicken." It made me laugh she created a board just for that. I need to get more specialized with my boards.
Calories: 103, Fat: 3.2g, Cholesterol 19.5mg, Sodium 237.7mg, Carb: 9.9g, Fiber: 0.5g, Sugars: 0.3g, Protein: 8.1g
See what I mean about the sodium?
Winner Winner Chicken Dinner
After a whopping 16 of you commented on "Get Your Freak On" to win a pair of Freaker USA beer sweaters, a winner has been chosen! It is Megan with the comment:
No one drinks more beer than me- that's why I deserve to win;) Mrs Mckeever drinks wine! Oh, and I'm stuck at home with the flu
Megan, please email me with your address and I will get your package out to you right away! PS--I hope you are feeling better.
I have another giveaway I am going to post this week. Not to be a shrew (as I really do appreciate the effort), but let's try to participate a little more on this next one. My stats tell me that 657 people viewed the giveaway, but only 16 people commented to win. If this apathy keeps up, nobody is going to want to send me anything to give away to you people! And that just gives me the sads. Work with me.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Sunday, February 3, 2013
First Class
Yesterday I was the recipient of a random act of kindness. I was returning home from Florida and when I got to the airport, I checked my bags in curbside. The attendant informed me that seat selections were slim pickings as there was an entire Pittsburgh Pirates fantasy camp and a college girls’ basketball team on the plane.
I tend to joke around with almost everyone I meet, so I asked him what it would cost to upgrade to first class. He informed me that it was 44 bucks, but would be close to 70 with my bag fees. I laughed and said, “You would have had me at 44, but lost me at 70. Don't buy back the sale.” He laughed along with me and handed me my ticket with my middle seat assignment.
Resigned to my fate of sitting in between two men that loved the Pirates so much they would travel to Florida to participate in a fantasy camp, I went through the rest of the motions of airport travel. In security, the man behind me complimented me on my choice of socks, which reinforced my policy that when it comes to fashion, it’s all in the details. I had a brief lunch at Chili’s with my boss and his wife during which we tried to download movies for the plane on our iPads. She wanted “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” and I wanted “Pitch Perfect,” but the wifi was too slow and the estimated time to download was 408 hours, which we certainly did not have. I was pissed because I got new Beats by Dre headphones and I wanted to show them off to the baseball fans on the plane.
My contingency plan was to grab a bag of Twizzlers and do a sweep of every trashy magazine on the rack. 20 bucks later, I held a treasure trove of Kardashian, Britney Spears and Leann Rimes gossip. Heaven!
As I approached the gate, I heard the announcer say, “Tiddy Ferguson, can you please report to the ticket counter?”
Ugh. This flight was overbooked and this lady was going to tell me I was getting booted off the plane. I trudged up to the desk with a frown on my face. She handed me a new ticket and said, “Tiddy, we are giving you a complimentary upgrade to first class today!”
OMG! What a nice surprise! The guy at the check in had hooked me up and completely made my day. I stuck my tongue out at my boss and boarded the plane. An older gentleman clad in Pirates gear sat next to me and greeted every other baseball fan with glee as they walked down the aisle. After everyone was seated, he proceeded to take advantage of the free first class beverages with intensity. I’m never one to judge someone’s alcohol consumption, but I will say this was impressive. It was a rare occasion that I did not feel like drinking, so I just ate my Twizzlers and read about what a “See You Next Tuesday” Kim Kardashian’s mother is to her children. Any other day, I would have been boozing it up with my first class companion.
When we got off of the plane, my boss informed me that I had been seated next to a famous former baseball player (I don’t remember his name). Whoever he was, I hope he had a ride home from the airport.
I was tired when I got back, but missed Mister Fergs and Biddy, so I unpacked and made the one hour trip to Seven Springs. It wasn’t snowing when I left home, but when I got close to the resort, it was near-blizzard conditions. I have all-wheel drive, which I have come to find out is not amazing in the snow. As I climbed the mountain at 20 mph with a line of ten cars behind me, my car hit a patch of ice and did a 360 into oncoming traffic, which was an equally long line of cars. Holy shit, that was the longest and scariest moment of my life. Jesus, take the wheel!
He took the wheel because I am not at all a good driver but managed to steer the car out of the tailspin and get back onto my side of the road. I was shaking and disoriented as I started driving again, when I heard someone lay on their horn. Seriously????
I made it to the condo, literally parked my car in a snow bank and collapsed inside. I handed my keys to Mister Fergs and told him he would have to figure it out. I had nothing left.
I got a good night’s sleep and now I’m going to take Biddy skiing in the fresh powder that almost cost me my life last night. We are going to leave this afternoon and go to Mark and Jenny’s for what we are billing as “the most pretentious Super Bowl party ever.” Mark and I were both social chairs for our sorority/fraternity in college and still tend to make every gathering into a themed event. We are going to have steak, lobster and champagne. First class.
I tend to joke around with almost everyone I meet, so I asked him what it would cost to upgrade to first class. He informed me that it was 44 bucks, but would be close to 70 with my bag fees. I laughed and said, “You would have had me at 44, but lost me at 70. Don't buy back the sale.” He laughed along with me and handed me my ticket with my middle seat assignment.
Resigned to my fate of sitting in between two men that loved the Pirates so much they would travel to Florida to participate in a fantasy camp, I went through the rest of the motions of airport travel. In security, the man behind me complimented me on my choice of socks, which reinforced my policy that when it comes to fashion, it’s all in the details. I had a brief lunch at Chili’s with my boss and his wife during which we tried to download movies for the plane on our iPads. She wanted “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” and I wanted “Pitch Perfect,” but the wifi was too slow and the estimated time to download was 408 hours, which we certainly did not have. I was pissed because I got new Beats by Dre headphones and I wanted to show them off to the baseball fans on the plane.
My contingency plan was to grab a bag of Twizzlers and do a sweep of every trashy magazine on the rack. 20 bucks later, I held a treasure trove of Kardashian, Britney Spears and Leann Rimes gossip. Heaven!
As I approached the gate, I heard the announcer say, “Tiddy Ferguson, can you please report to the ticket counter?”
Ugh. This flight was overbooked and this lady was going to tell me I was getting booted off the plane. I trudged up to the desk with a frown on my face. She handed me a new ticket and said, “Tiddy, we are giving you a complimentary upgrade to first class today!”
OMG! What a nice surprise! The guy at the check in had hooked me up and completely made my day. I stuck my tongue out at my boss and boarded the plane. An older gentleman clad in Pirates gear sat next to me and greeted every other baseball fan with glee as they walked down the aisle. After everyone was seated, he proceeded to take advantage of the free first class beverages with intensity. I’m never one to judge someone’s alcohol consumption, but I will say this was impressive. It was a rare occasion that I did not feel like drinking, so I just ate my Twizzlers and read about what a “See You Next Tuesday” Kim Kardashian’s mother is to her children. Any other day, I would have been boozing it up with my first class companion.
When we got off of the plane, my boss informed me that I had been seated next to a famous former baseball player (I don’t remember his name). Whoever he was, I hope he had a ride home from the airport.
I was tired when I got back, but missed Mister Fergs and Biddy, so I unpacked and made the one hour trip to Seven Springs. It wasn’t snowing when I left home, but when I got close to the resort, it was near-blizzard conditions. I have all-wheel drive, which I have come to find out is not amazing in the snow. As I climbed the mountain at 20 mph with a line of ten cars behind me, my car hit a patch of ice and did a 360 into oncoming traffic, which was an equally long line of cars. Holy shit, that was the longest and scariest moment of my life. Jesus, take the wheel!
He took the wheel because I am not at all a good driver but managed to steer the car out of the tailspin and get back onto my side of the road. I was shaking and disoriented as I started driving again, when I heard someone lay on their horn. Seriously????
I made it to the condo, literally parked my car in a snow bank and collapsed inside. I handed my keys to Mister Fergs and told him he would have to figure it out. I had nothing left.
I got a good night’s sleep and now I’m going to take Biddy skiing in the fresh powder that almost cost me my life last night. We are going to leave this afternoon and go to Mark and Jenny’s for what we are billing as “the most pretentious Super Bowl party ever.” Mark and I were both social chairs for our sorority/fraternity in college and still tend to make every gathering into a themed event. We are going to have steak, lobster and champagne. First class.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Stacks on Stacks on Stacks
Technology is totally cray. Right this very second, I am blogging from an airplane bound for Tampa, Florida. For a nominal fee of ten bucks, I have been able to Internet the entire flight. I don’t have a general theme for this blog, so you will just have to deal with my random thoughts.
I’m going to Florida for work, but managed to book a hotel right beside the mall which has a Tory Burch and a Neiman Marcus, which are unavailable to me in Pittsburgh. Yay! I really want to start planning my spring wardrobe but I am hampered by the fact that I have zero idea what is in style right now. I also would like to slim down a size (or two—yeah right) and don’t want to buy clothes if they aren’t going to fit in a couple of months.
Who am I kidding? I will just end up buying a ton of cropped yoga pants. Why ruin a good thing?
You know what I’m obsessing over right now? My bracelet stack. It all started a few months ago when I came across this photo on Rich Kids of Instagram.
If you have not checked out that Web site, you must go there immediately. It is a collection of photos that rich kids post on Instagram and it is THE BEST. Anyway, the photo inspired me to build my own stack of bracelets and I have been playing around with it for months. I tend to find little things like this to obsess over, which can be annoying but I like to think it is part of my charm. The other day I bought a bracelet at Nordstrom and sent a pic of it to my friend AR and she wrote back, “I know what you’re doing and you need to STOP!”
I agree. I need to stop but I just can’t seem to get the stack quite the way I want it, which is eclectic and effortless but completely stylish. I bought a new bracelet yesterday and if I’m not careful, I’m not going to be able to use my arm.
The captain has just indicated we are going to begin our descent, so I’m going to put away my laptop and start my anxiety attack that will last until we land safely. XOXO.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Get Your Freak On
OMG. It’s my very first giveaway on Tiddy.com! You may remember a few weeks ago in this blog, I wrote about the very amazing beer sweater my cousin bought me for Christmas. As a result, the good people at Freaker USA have given me two beer sweaters (called Freakers) to give away to one lucky reader!
A little background about the product from the Freaker Website:
Established in 2011 and located in Wilmington, North Carolina, The Freaker quickly grew to be the global leader of preventing moist handshakes and sweaty beverages. They aren’t just selling you their fit-everything product, they’re giving you an invitation to their party; a starter kit for a new lifestyle. The Freaker isn’t a strike-at-the-wind attempt to get rich, it’s the background music to a never-ending journey. Infusing life, style and functionality into a drink insulator.
My thoughts on the Freaker:
It’s a product I never knew that I needed. In addition to being super cute, it keeps my beer cold and my hands warm. I keep it in my ski jacket so I have it handy when I’m finished on the slopes. It never loses its shape and I have even put it on a champagne bottle. Everyone gets a little jealous when I bust it out and I always know which beer is mine.
Just in time for Valentine’s Day, the lucky winner of this giveaway will receive the his and hers Freakers pictured below (clearly I am not a professional photographer). How do you win? Leave a comment below and I will use a random number generator to pick the winner. You have one week to comment. I realize this is a completely ghetto way to run this giveaway, but I couldn’t figure out the “Rafflecopter” gadget and at the end of the day, I need you peeps to start commenting on these blogs I’m faithfully writing.
So comment away and good luck! I will announce the winner next Tuesday! And if you don't win, you can buy yourself a Freaker here.
A little background about the product from the Freaker Website:
Established in 2011 and located in Wilmington, North Carolina, The Freaker quickly grew to be the global leader of preventing moist handshakes and sweaty beverages. They aren’t just selling you their fit-everything product, they’re giving you an invitation to their party; a starter kit for a new lifestyle. The Freaker isn’t a strike-at-the-wind attempt to get rich, it’s the background music to a never-ending journey. Infusing life, style and functionality into a drink insulator.
My thoughts on the Freaker:
It’s a product I never knew that I needed. In addition to being super cute, it keeps my beer cold and my hands warm. I keep it in my ski jacket so I have it handy when I’m finished on the slopes. It never loses its shape and I have even put it on a champagne bottle. Everyone gets a little jealous when I bust it out and I always know which beer is mine.
Just in time for Valentine’s Day, the lucky winner of this giveaway will receive the his and hers Freakers pictured below (clearly I am not a professional photographer). How do you win? Leave a comment below and I will use a random number generator to pick the winner. You have one week to comment. I realize this is a completely ghetto way to run this giveaway, but I couldn’t figure out the “Rafflecopter” gadget and at the end of the day, I need you peeps to start commenting on these blogs I’m faithfully writing.
So comment away and good luck! I will announce the winner next Tuesday! And if you don't win, you can buy yourself a Freaker here.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Warm and Fuzzy
With the exception of work, I have worn black yoga pants every day for two months. They are comfortable, slimming and most importantly, warm. It’s freezing here and all I want to do is snuggle under a blanket in my yoga pants with a hot toddy and watch the snow fall.
No exaggeration, I have eight pairs of the same pants. They are all black, with a panel at the top that sucks in your muffin top. If I could find a way to wear them to the office, I would. When I was pregnant and bought my first pair of maternity jeans with a panel that came up over my belly, I fell in love with the concept. Sure, my stomach was bigger than ever, but the panel created such a smooth silhouette. This has given me an idea. What if we took the maternity jean system in the other direction? Instead of a panel designed to grow with your belly, there was a panel made of Spanx that sucked you in? I’m fairly certain this innovation would solve 90% of my fashion emergencies. I’m busting my sewing machine out this week and starting on the first prototype. Stay tuned…
I really need to be training for the marathon but all of my regular running partners have come down with a case of the babies. The gym gets so boring and I want to get some of this cold air into my lungs. My issues with not having a steady running partner are twofold:
1. There’s nobody to hold me accountable for hitting the trail.
2. When I run by myself, I spend the whole time obsessing over whether or not a man is going to jump out of the shadows and attack me, depleting all of the energy I need to complete the run.
In an effort to stay in the same size yoga pants, I have been skiing every weekend this winter. I am extremely cautious and make a lot of turns, which results in a killer leg workout. We have been having a lot of fun on the mountain this year. Several of our friends also have toddlers and ski, so we meet at the lift and the kids chase each other down the slopes with the Daddies right behind them holding a leash, snowplowing the whole way. Now THAT’S a killer leg workout!
After skiing, we usually meet up at someone’s condo and have dinner and drinks while the kids build forts and hang out. I have known most of these winter friends since middle school and when I look around at our kids playing together, it is mind blowing. The guy I sat behind in social studies is now a father of two and here we are, talking about mortgages and automobile safety ratings.
After deeming it too cold and windy to stay out any longer yesterday, I skied over to another friend’s condo to hang out. As I sat in a theater room and watched Transformers while eating Twizzlers and drinking beer (his condo is amazing), it struck me that nothing has really changed since the 7th grade—except for the beer part. His nickname for me is “fatbacks” because I routinely wear granny panties with my yoga pants, which apparently creates unsightly panty lines. I could care less. I refuse to go commando or wear a thong. Yesterday, when I got up out of my seat to use the restroom he yelled out, “Hey Fatbacks! Grab me a beer on your way back.”
It’s moments like this that keep me warm during these long winter months.
No exaggeration, I have eight pairs of the same pants. They are all black, with a panel at the top that sucks in your muffin top. If I could find a way to wear them to the office, I would. When I was pregnant and bought my first pair of maternity jeans with a panel that came up over my belly, I fell in love with the concept. Sure, my stomach was bigger than ever, but the panel created such a smooth silhouette. This has given me an idea. What if we took the maternity jean system in the other direction? Instead of a panel designed to grow with your belly, there was a panel made of Spanx that sucked you in? I’m fairly certain this innovation would solve 90% of my fashion emergencies. I’m busting my sewing machine out this week and starting on the first prototype. Stay tuned…
I really need to be training for the marathon but all of my regular running partners have come down with a case of the babies. The gym gets so boring and I want to get some of this cold air into my lungs. My issues with not having a steady running partner are twofold:
1. There’s nobody to hold me accountable for hitting the trail.
2. When I run by myself, I spend the whole time obsessing over whether or not a man is going to jump out of the shadows and attack me, depleting all of the energy I need to complete the run.
In an effort to stay in the same size yoga pants, I have been skiing every weekend this winter. I am extremely cautious and make a lot of turns, which results in a killer leg workout. We have been having a lot of fun on the mountain this year. Several of our friends also have toddlers and ski, so we meet at the lift and the kids chase each other down the slopes with the Daddies right behind them holding a leash, snowplowing the whole way. Now THAT’S a killer leg workout!
After skiing, we usually meet up at someone’s condo and have dinner and drinks while the kids build forts and hang out. I have known most of these winter friends since middle school and when I look around at our kids playing together, it is mind blowing. The guy I sat behind in social studies is now a father of two and here we are, talking about mortgages and automobile safety ratings.
After deeming it too cold and windy to stay out any longer yesterday, I skied over to another friend’s condo to hang out. As I sat in a theater room and watched Transformers while eating Twizzlers and drinking beer (his condo is amazing), it struck me that nothing has really changed since the 7th grade—except for the beer part. His nickname for me is “fatbacks” because I routinely wear granny panties with my yoga pants, which apparently creates unsightly panty lines. I could care less. I refuse to go commando or wear a thong. Yesterday, when I got up out of my seat to use the restroom he yelled out, “Hey Fatbacks! Grab me a beer on your way back.”
It’s moments like this that keep me warm during these long winter months.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
The Fat Partner
I have really been working some crazy long hours lately, so things on the home front have gotten a little out of control. When I walked in the door yesterday, I noticed that my house had started to resemble an episode of Hoarders. Toys and electronics were strewn everywhere and mail was piling up on the table. There was a Barbie Jeep parked in my dining room and my little robot vacuum was pouting in the corner. I half expected some random cats to start coming out of the shadows. No episode of Hoarders is complete without a bunch of cats.
Dude. I need a wife. Is this how polygamy gets started? I need a lady who will manage my household, cook for my family, clean up this mess, pay the bills and do some laundry. She would also need to be available to listen to all of my work drama and offer opinions on outfits. You know who would be perfect? Alice from the Brady Bunch, without all of the meatloaf.
Through all of the clutter, I noticed a newspaper section on the table. Not a whole paper, just a section that had been purposely pulled from the stack. Ordinarily, this would not even register on my radar screen. It was the headline that grabbed my attention:
Clearly, this had been placed on the table for a reason. That Mister Fergs was way more diabolical than I had ever imagined. The article went on to make suggestions on how the fit partner in the relationship could gently goad the fatass into hitting the gym and eating salads without getting punched in the face.
Regardless of how much he has going on, Mister Fergs manages to make it to the gym almost every day. He is a picture of health and could grace the cover of Outside magazine right this very second with zero airbrushing. He is the fit partner. He will be so embarrassed when he reads this, but it’s true. He’s a hottie.
While not a total fatass, I could definitely make it to the gym more often and/or make better choices in the food department. Working lunches and mid-afternoon M&M infusions do not make you skinny. Collapsing on your couch at the end of the day due to mental exhaustion does not remove the junk from your trunk. I get it. I need to plan ahead for workout time and healthy snacks—and I will sit down and do just that…as soon as I get some time.
When he arrived home, I shoved that paper right in Mister Ferg’s face and told him that if he wanted me to slim down, he could just come out and say it. He was so horrified when he saw the headline, I had to laugh. He explained that the section was his favorite and since he didn’t have time to read the whole paper, he had pulled it out to save for later. He also added that he loved me just the way that I am. He’s as genuinely sweet as he is good looking.
Clearly, things are hectic and I either need to find us a wife or carve out some time to streamline the processes in the Ferguson household and also my life. Gummy vitamins can only do so much. I'm going to go feed the cats.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Soda Sisters
I was recently doing some grocery shopping at Wal*Mart (so annoying, yet so cheap). I never go with a list of things we need; I just leisurely stroll through the aisles and grab things that catch my eye. Since I am the person who takes it upon herself to go to the store, I feel completely justified buying what I like. Inevitably, this leads to Mister Ferguson making a second trip to the store to round out my half-thought out purchases into actual meals.
Back to Wal*Mart. I was in the soda aisle ready to stock up on my life juice when I noticed an Amish lady reaching for the Diet Coke at the very same time. As we locked eyes, she gave me a conspiratorial grin and I thought to myself, “You know what lady? You and I aren’t very different at all.” I returned her smile, grabbed the Diet Coke and went on my way, but I couldn’t get her off of my mind. There were so many unanswered questions.
1. Is she allowed to drink Diet Coke or is this something she hides behind the barn, taking a nip or two when the old man isn’t looking? Is this her guilty pleasure?
2. Why Diet Coke and not regular? Is she figure and/or health conscious? Would I be worried about these things if I was required to wear long sleeves and skirts year round?
3. How did she find out about Diet Coke in the first place?
There’s so much to learn from others. Even though we shared a moment in the beverage section, I didn’t feel close enough to her to ask her these burning questions, so they continue to fester in my mind. I thought we might meet up again in another aisle, but as it turns out, she doesn’t share my penchant for Skittles.
I finished up my little excursion by picking up some things for Biddy’s lunch. Instead of being a sensible parent who considers things like balanced meals, whole grains and the four food groups, I am drawn to gimmicks designed to mitigate the guilt of a working parent who packs a lunch for their child to eat at daycare.
When packing lunch for Biddy, my goals are simple.
1. I want her to enjoy and actually look forward to her lunch.
2. She should have the coolest lunch in her entire class.
3. This lunch should be relatively simple to prepare.
4. She feels love pouring out of each individual package she opens.
With birthday cake flavored pudding, dinosaur chicken nuggets and cheese shaped like Mickey Mouse spilling out of my cart, I made my way to the checkout line. I busied myself texting some peeps and checking Facebook until it was my turn. Ugh, so many of you have the flu. When I swiped my credit card, it occurred to me that I had wasted an hour and a half at Wal*Mart and had absolutely no idea what I was going to make for dinner. As my eyes scanned the contents of the bags and I contemplated how I was going to pass off dinosaur nuggets as a meal, my mind wandered to my new Amish friend and how she might be killing a chicken with her bare hands for dinner. And washing that chicken down with a Diet Coke.
Back to Wal*Mart. I was in the soda aisle ready to stock up on my life juice when I noticed an Amish lady reaching for the Diet Coke at the very same time. As we locked eyes, she gave me a conspiratorial grin and I thought to myself, “You know what lady? You and I aren’t very different at all.” I returned her smile, grabbed the Diet Coke and went on my way, but I couldn’t get her off of my mind. There were so many unanswered questions.
1. Is she allowed to drink Diet Coke or is this something she hides behind the barn, taking a nip or two when the old man isn’t looking? Is this her guilty pleasure?
2. Why Diet Coke and not regular? Is she figure and/or health conscious? Would I be worried about these things if I was required to wear long sleeves and skirts year round?
3. How did she find out about Diet Coke in the first place?
There’s so much to learn from others. Even though we shared a moment in the beverage section, I didn’t feel close enough to her to ask her these burning questions, so they continue to fester in my mind. I thought we might meet up again in another aisle, but as it turns out, she doesn’t share my penchant for Skittles.
I finished up my little excursion by picking up some things for Biddy’s lunch. Instead of being a sensible parent who considers things like balanced meals, whole grains and the four food groups, I am drawn to gimmicks designed to mitigate the guilt of a working parent who packs a lunch for their child to eat at daycare.
When packing lunch for Biddy, my goals are simple.
1. I want her to enjoy and actually look forward to her lunch.
2. She should have the coolest lunch in her entire class.
3. This lunch should be relatively simple to prepare.
4. She feels love pouring out of each individual package she opens.
With birthday cake flavored pudding, dinosaur chicken nuggets and cheese shaped like Mickey Mouse spilling out of my cart, I made my way to the checkout line. I busied myself texting some peeps and checking Facebook until it was my turn. Ugh, so many of you have the flu. When I swiped my credit card, it occurred to me that I had wasted an hour and a half at Wal*Mart and had absolutely no idea what I was going to make for dinner. As my eyes scanned the contents of the bags and I contemplated how I was going to pass off dinosaur nuggets as a meal, my mind wandered to my new Amish friend and how she might be killing a chicken with her bare hands for dinner. And washing that chicken down with a Diet Coke.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Current Events
1. Catfish—A couple of weeks ago, I made a note to write about my favorite MTV show “Catfish,” and now it has been thrust into national headlines. In case you live under a rock/don’t read the news/don’t have cable, a "catfish" is a person who creates fake profiles online and pretends to be someone they are not by using someone else's pictures and information. These "catfish" use social media sites like Facebook and Twitter, usually with the intention of getting other people or a person to fall in love with them. MTV and the producers of the 2010 documentary film Catfish send Nev Schulman and his friend and filmmaker Max Joseph to help couples who have never met in real life. They want to know if the person they have had a relationship and fallen in love with is the real deal or if they are a "catfish." Some couples have been together for a few months, others have been together for years. Nev, who has fallen victim to a "catfish," claims that he has received requests from people asking him for his help in determining whether or not their online-only significant other is lying or telling the truth about their identity. Each episode is a different couple with a different story and Nev flies out to wherever they live and does background checks and research to uncover the truth. He contacts the other person to get a meeting set up so they both can meet for the first time and documents the outcome. SPOILER ALERT: The people are NEVER who they say they are. A boy turns out to be a girl, a swimsuit model turns out to be a 400 pounder…you get the idea. The show is captivating to the point you find yourself literally screaming at the television when the poor, love-sick individual is rattling off reasons why his online sweetheart has never been able to meet him in person over the course of TWO YEARS but manages to carve out several hours in a day to chat with him online. The whole scenario is so so sad, yet I cannot stop watching. In fact, my brother and I watched every episode On Demand over Christmas break and never got bored. In case you are wondering where the term “catfish” comes from, here is your answer:
When certain fish are caught and are transported in tanks, they often die because they won't swim around and keep themselves moving. Sometimes catfish are placed into these tanks with the other fish to keep them stimulated and moving around. In human terms, catfish are people who keep you on your toes.
I don’t know about you, but I have enough shit going on in my life to keep me on my toes without some Internet random adding to the chaos. Be careful, people. Catfish are everywhere, and not just online.
2. Jodi Lost—If you have been keeping up with the side pony debate from last week, you will have noticed that the polls have closed and Jodi lost by a landslide—30 to 8. She is being a good sport about it and has agreed to go down to the hair salon, get a side pony and have her photo posted here on tiddy.com. She will look adorable and who knows? Maybe she will change her mind about the whole thing. Look for that in the upcoming week or so. Also thanks to all of you who voted and SPECIAL thanks to all of you who took my side.
3. Guest Blogs—I have gotten a lot of interest from readers who would like to write a guest blog for tiddy.com and I am MORE than happy to post your thoughts on the Internets. Maybe you’re thinking about creating a blog of your very own and want to try it out or maybe you just want to see your thoughts in print without all of the hassle of maintaining regular content. Whatever your motivation, send me a story. You can post it using your real name or a pseudonym, it’s up to you. If you’re a little uneasy about your writing skills, I will even help you edit (in all honesty, I can’t help myself). The only guideline/rule I have is to please avoid using the f-word because I’m pretty sure my Mommaw (that’s West Virginian for grandmother) reads this blog.
4. Tiddy on Facebook—Tiddy is on Facebook and I want to be your friend. I also want to be your friends’ friend, so please recommend me to anyone you know. You can find me here or search for me, as I am pretty sure I am the only Tiddy Ferguson in existence. As my friend on Facebook, you will be privy to my status updates, new blog posts and possibly giveaways (which I am currently exploring but can’t promise yet). Side note, if you have some sort of business and have something you would like to give away in a contest on tiddy.com, please email me here.
When certain fish are caught and are transported in tanks, they often die because they won't swim around and keep themselves moving. Sometimes catfish are placed into these tanks with the other fish to keep them stimulated and moving around. In human terms, catfish are people who keep you on your toes.
I don’t know about you, but I have enough shit going on in my life to keep me on my toes without some Internet random adding to the chaos. Be careful, people. Catfish are everywhere, and not just online.
2. Jodi Lost—If you have been keeping up with the side pony debate from last week, you will have noticed that the polls have closed and Jodi lost by a landslide—30 to 8. She is being a good sport about it and has agreed to go down to the hair salon, get a side pony and have her photo posted here on tiddy.com. She will look adorable and who knows? Maybe she will change her mind about the whole thing. Look for that in the upcoming week or so. Also thanks to all of you who voted and SPECIAL thanks to all of you who took my side.
3. Guest Blogs—I have gotten a lot of interest from readers who would like to write a guest blog for tiddy.com and I am MORE than happy to post your thoughts on the Internets. Maybe you’re thinking about creating a blog of your very own and want to try it out or maybe you just want to see your thoughts in print without all of the hassle of maintaining regular content. Whatever your motivation, send me a story. You can post it using your real name or a pseudonym, it’s up to you. If you’re a little uneasy about your writing skills, I will even help you edit (in all honesty, I can’t help myself). The only guideline/rule I have is to please avoid using the f-word because I’m pretty sure my Mommaw (that’s West Virginian for grandmother) reads this blog.
4. Tiddy on Facebook—Tiddy is on Facebook and I want to be your friend. I also want to be your friends’ friend, so please recommend me to anyone you know. You can find me here or search for me, as I am pretty sure I am the only Tiddy Ferguson in existence. As my friend on Facebook, you will be privy to my status updates, new blog posts and possibly giveaways (which I am currently exploring but can’t promise yet). Side note, if you have some sort of business and have something you would like to give away in a contest on tiddy.com, please email me here.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Water Into Wine
I went to mass in my ski boots this morning. Truth. In an effort to keep up with our promise to attend church on a regular basis in 2013, Mister Fergs and I have been taking Biddy to the “vacation mass” that is offered every Sunday at Seven Springs.
The service is held in an auditorium that resembles a college classroom. Priests are rotated, so you never know what you’re going to get. It ranges from a 20 minute “grab your wafer and go” to a full on hour-long mass.
Today, when we informed Biddy that we were going to church before we went skiing, she pouted and told us she didn’t want to go. I wanted to help her understand why it was important to go to church and thank God for everything he has given us. This proved to be a difficult task. How do you explain religion to a three-year-old? Right now, her idea of God is Santa Claus; the benevolent old gentleman who recently bestowed upon her a new bicycle, skis and a Barbie Jeep. These are tangible items for which she can express her gratitude. As a parent, how do you teach your children to be grateful for blessings such as health, happiness and security?
Taking her to church certainly can’t hurt, so that’s what we’re going with now. We all put on our long underwear and ski clothes and wrestled into our boots. After that whole ordeal, it occurred to me that regardless of how much I skied today, I burned roughly 300 calories dressing myself and Biddy for the day. You really, really have to be committed to taking a toddler skiing because it is extremely taxing just getting out the door and there are many opportunities to give up and back out.
We made it out the door and onto the shuttle and before we knew it, we were congregated with the Catholic skiing population of Western Pennsylvania. The priest of the day set the tone for the mass by indicating that we were going to sing and listen to a homily, so we took our coats off and settled in for the long haul.
Biddy was fascinated by the crowd and made several attempts at the sign of the cross, which made Mister Fergs and I collapse into laughter. When we got to the homily, the priest started by telling the story of Jesus turning water into wine. He went on to explain how we can use the lesson today by being patient while God turns the water in our lives to wine. I felt as though that guy was speaking directly to me. What a very simple and poignant statement.
No matter how long the mass, there is always the opportunity to shake the hand of those sitting next to you and offer a peace exchange. For some reason, every time I attend service, I start to get anxious in the minutes prior to the event and look around at the individuals I will be interacting with. Tiddy, the person who is paid a salary to interact with people, becomes completely socially awkward at the thought of shaking random hands, looking into random eyes and saying the words, “Peace be with you.” I really have no idea why I feel this way. It has nothing to do with germs.
Due to the fact it is MLK weekend and most people are enjoying a three day vacation, it was a packed house. That, coupled with the number of churchgoers awkwardly making their way down the steps in ski boots, made for an unusually long communion. As people continued to come out of the woodwork to receive their wafers (including what seemed like an entire middle school), I asked Mister Fergs what would happen if they ran out of wafers. At that very moment, we found out. The priest realized he simply did not have enough to go around and literally started breaking the wafers into 16ths. I’ve never seen anything like it! Biddy started to get all huffy and wondered why she didn’t get one so I made a mental note to bring a pack of Sweet Tarts next time and give her one of those when we take communion.
After mass, we headed out to the slopes to continue Biddy’s skiing education. It was sunny, music was in the air and the sky was a brilliant shade of blue. As we rode the ski lift to the top of the mountain together, I realized at that very moment, God was turning the water of my life into wine.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Internetting With Tiddy, Volume 2
It is a beautiful morning here in the mountains and we all just ate breakfast burritos lovingly prepared by Mister Fergs. He actually came home from the store on Wednesday with all of the ingredients for Saturday morning, so he must have really been craving a breakfast fiesta.
The sun is shining, the birds are singing and I am going to shimmy into my ski pants and spend the day cruising around on my new skis and boots. There are supposed to be multiple DJs on the deck at the Foggy Goggle starting at 2 pm, so you know where I will be this afternoon.
Onto this week’s obsessions:
Mint Automatic Floor Cleaner
My brother is quite possibly one of the worst gift givers I have ever met. Prior to meeting his lovely wife, he did all of his Christmas shopping at Spencer Gifts—for everyone including my Grandmother. In the past, I have received such gems as a neon license plate cover, a Will Smith cassette tape (ten years after the release of CDs) and a lava lamp. This year for Christmas, however, he totally redeemed himself with the Mint Automatic Hard Floor Cleaner. This cute little robot uses GPS to map out your house and Swiffers your floors while you eat bon-bons and watch Big Rich Texas. It is not complicated to set up or use AT ALL and does a great job. You can also put a wet Swiffer on the robot and watch Jerseylicious while you’re at it. If you’re not on my brother’s Christmas list, get yourself one here.
Vino 2 Go
What do you even say about this? A sippy cup for wine that I will take on the boat, in the car (while Mister Fergs is driving of course) and possibly even the ski slope. It’s awesome. You can find it here.
The Chocolate Money
This is a GREAT book. I love reading about rich people and their problems. I read this in a day. Amazon’s synopsis:
The Chocolate money chronicles the relationship between an impossibly rich chocolate heiress, Babs Ballentyne, and her sensitive and bookish young daughter, Bettina. Babs plays by no one’s rules: naked Christmas cards, lavish theme parties with lewd installations at her Lake Shore Drive penthouse, nocturnal visits from her married lover, who “admires her centerfold” while his wife sleeps at their nearby home.
Bettina wants nothing more than to win her mother’s affection and approval, both of which prove elusive. When she escapes to an elite New Hampshire prep school, Bettina finds that her unorthodox upbringing makes it difficult to fit in with her peers, one of whom happens to be the son of Babs’s lover. As she struggles to forge an identity apart from her mother, Bettina walks a fine line between self-preservation and self-destruction.
Order the book here. Let me know what you think about it.
Gummy Vitamins
Vitamins are gross. You have to choke down big horse pills. If you haven’t eaten anything, they make you nauseous. I buy them, forget to take them and then they expire. I found these adult gummy vitamins at Sam’s Club a few weeks ago and now I am happy to report I am a 100% compliant vitamin taker! It is so easy to grab the individual packs on the run. There are five different gummy bears in the pack and they each contain a different vitamin. They are fun to eat, they don’t make me nauseous and taste good for vitamins. The only questionable one is the bear with the Omega-3 fish oil. He tastes like a fish-flavored gummy bear, which is quite possibly the most disgusting thing I have ever had. However, if you read about the benefits of taking a daily dose of fish oil, he doesn’t seem so bad. You can find these bears here.
Kanye West Embroidered Tweet
It’s no secret that I am a card carrying member of the Kanye West fan club. Whether you share my affection for this egomaniac or not, you have to agree he has some pretty hilarious tweets. Here are some examples:
I ordered the salmon medium instead of medium well I didn’t want to ruin the magic.
Do you know where to find marble conference tables? I’m looking to have a conference…not until I get the table though.
Man…ninjas are kind of cool…I just don’t know any personally .
On Etsy, you can pick your favorite Kanye West tweet and have it embroidered. Yes, this is sitting on my desk at work. To get your own, you can click here.
Enough Internetting. We're burning daylight and it's time get out and enjoy this winter sunshine. In the very wise words of R. Kelly, "It's the freakin weekend baby, I'm about to have me some fun." Go out and have you some fun.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Craft Porn Volume 2
I needed an idea for dinner tonight, so I decided to raid my Aunt’s Pinterest board. Aunt Shirley is our family’s own little Martha Stewart so I knew that she would have some great ideas on there. I was not disapointed.
When I came across “Cracker Barrel Chicken and Dumplings,” I didn’t have to look any further. Growing up in Southern West Virginia, chicken and dumplings was a staple and has always been at the top of my favorite foods list. What better meal to serve my family on a chilly January evening?
Ummm, I needed to roast a chicken and also make dumpling dough?
Ugh. Dilemma! My heart was set on chicken and dumplings but this was WAY too much work. WTF is the number for Cracker Barrel? I rummaged around my cabinets for ingredients to throw something together. This is what I came up with. Busy lady chicken and dumplings.
Chicken broth, chicken gravy, some shredded chicken and a couple of cans of biscuits. Stop judging me for using generic products. I threw the chicken, broth, gravy and salt and pepper into the Crock Pot in the morning. When I got home from work, I took the biscuit dough, rolled it out and cut it into flat, rectangle dumpling noodles with a pizza cutter. I dropped those into the boiling soup and waited 30 minutes for them to cook properly. When it was ready to serve, I spooned it into bowls and ground some fresh pepper over it to make it look fancy. Success! Just like being at the Cracker Barrel. All that’s missing is that little golf tee intelligence test on the table. Pinterest example is on the left, mine is on the right in the Chinet bowl.
1. So easy a caveman could do it.
2. You might already have the ingredients (who am I kidding, I am the only jackass who keeps cans of biscuits on hand).
3. It’s really, really good.
4. It is only 250 calories. 300 if you really go for it.
Cons:
1. Not a damn thing.
Because I am an angel and my BFFFFF Mark (important attorney) has been wrapped up in a trial for days, I did a little “Meals on Wheels” mission and drove some chicken and dumplings over for his lovely family to enjoy. I hate it when Mark is busy at trial because he is completely unavailable to listen to me pratter on about diet and exercise, rap music and ridiculous status updates from mutual Facebook friends.
Mark and his wife Jenny are the biggest foodies on the planet. I hate that word. They have the Food Network on at their house all of time. They have fancy tools to hand cut french fries and cook with things like Kosher salt. I don't cook for them often because it is pointless and none of the ghetto recipes I am whipping up in my kitchen are going to impress them. Following are their reviews of the chicken and dumplings:
Mark: Very good and hearty!
Jenny: The chicken and dumplings was the ultimate comfort food! Just needed a little more seasoning...salt! Or maybe I'm just a salt head!
See what I mean about the Kosher salt?
Mark: Very good and hearty!
Jenny: The chicken and dumplings was the ultimate comfort food! Just needed a little more seasoning...salt! Or maybe I'm just a salt head!
See what I mean about the Kosher salt?
So maybe you’re not busy, maybe you’re just lazy. Or you don’t know how to roast a chicken. Either way, this recipe is for you. I wish there was a whole cookbook of recipes like this. There probably is. If you know about one, tell me about it.
I’m still going to make the gummy bears. I just needed to make dinner for my family and this was a way to kill two birds with one stone. If you have a pin you would like me to try, email it to me here.
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